Harvey's hope had been that they would just snap their bracelets on and be whisked away to that lake where the only danger was the skeleton ferryman annoying the hell out of them. That, he was used to. That, he could deal with.

Instead, Sangamon made a stupid decision and sent them to the pantry. Harvey only realized what had happened when he stumbled and knocked a jar of pickles to the floor. "Shit." He said it almost at the exact same time as Sangamon, and then repeated it when he realized that the zombie had hitched a ride with them: "Shit!"

While it was Sangamon's fault that they were now stuck in a pantry with something that was mindless, had a sword, and wanted to use it on them, at least the guy made an effort to fend the thing off.

This time, there wasn't any way out, and so Harvey grabbed the gun out of the elastic of his pants and took the safety off. If there was any time when it made sense to use it--

Harvey slid to the side, so that Sangamon wasn't in his line of fire, and then aimed a shot at the thing's skull. Right now, it didn't matter to him if this thing had once been a patient.